


Shadow On The Walls

by peppermint_latte



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Character Death, Demonic Possession, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Ghost Sex, Haunting, M/M, Romance, Temporary Character Death, Witchcraft, this is kind of a rom-com
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 19:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17086457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermint_latte/pseuds/peppermint_latte
Summary: Before the events of Who Killed Markiplier there was an unfortunate accident at the mayor’s office. The building burnt down, several people trapped inside and Damien was one of them. Afterwards the mayor’s office is rebuilt in a different part of the city and some decades later an apartment complex is built there. Y/N is a struggling writer who has recently moved to the city.





	Shadow On The Walls

You think it’s good luck, to find an apartment for that price. It’s less than it should be for a nice place like this, you expect some kind of catch. But as the weeks go on nothing stands out to you, the place is fine and you’re not sure why you were worried. You just got a good deal that’s all.

 

It starts small, a few of your sketches are slightly moved one day. You’re sure that you didn’t leave them this way and the window hasn’t been open but you don’t think about it too much, it’s probably nothing. You start to notice cold spots soon after, sometimes one area of the apartment is suddenly bitingly cold. You think the walls must be thin.

 

Sometimes you swear that you can hear whispering, it sounds like a man. But you’re not sure what he’s talking about, it’s just your mind playing tricks on you anyway. You swear you see someone standing behind you in the mirror one day, but afterwards you chalk it up to paranoia. Things move around more noticeably, and now you’re sure it’s not just your imagination. But you can’t figure out what the hell is going on.

 

It all comes to a head when you have strange dream about a fire and a man in a suit and wake up to see someone at the foot of your bed. You nearly scream but when you blink they’re gone. The next day you go to the local library and read up about ghosts and hauntings. You know Google would be faster but you don’t feel safe in your apartment right now and the internet is full of misinformation anyway. After a day at the library you feel a lot more calm and ready to go back to your apartment. As you walk up to your door you take a deep breath and turn the key. You’ve almost convinced yourself that it’s all nothing and that your mind really is playing tricks on you. As you step inside you expect something to happen like a book to come flying at you but nothing happens. You relax, and begin to think you overreacted last night. It was probably nothing, maybe even part of your dream.

 

“Hey, I didn’t want to scare you.” You scream as a voice speaks to your left. You turn to see the man from your dream last night standing there. You step back quickly.

 

“What the fuck.” Not very eloquent but there’s a ghost in your apartment so you’re not really worried about that.

 

He puts his arms up and says, “Please don’t run, I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

You stare at him for a minute, trying to gauge whether he is lying. It’s strange, you’re almost convinced he’s not a ghost with how solid he looks but after all the freaky shit that has gone down around here you don’t think this could be some giant prank. You cross your arms over your chest and step forward a little bit, you want to appear confident even if you are freaking out right now.

 

“Why should I believe you?” His face falls a little at your question before he quickly smiles, it doesn’t stop you from seeing the sadness in his eyes. You can’t help but lower your guard a little, he really doesn’t seem to be trying to harm you.

 

“I’ve been here a very long time and truth be told I’ve gotten quite lonely. When you moved in I was elated, as all the others I’ve tried to speak to have left quickly. I’m just very…. ” He pauses as though unsure of himself, he looks away from you. Looking closer you can see the weight on his shoulders now, and it’s one you know well.

 

“Lonely.” You say for him. He looks up at that and slowly nods. You look back at him and think about this for a minute. He could be lying but you’ve always been a good judge of character and your gut isn’t telling you to run, so you decide to give him a chance. And it definitely has nothing to do with the fact that you’re lonely too.

 

“Okay.” You relent. He looks shocked.

 

“Okay?” He asks.

 

“Okay I’ll trust you for now, I’m incredibly curious about how you can exist anyway.” He looks like he doesn’t believe you, it must really have been a long time. You lead him to sit down, you’re going to ask him as many questions as you can. Frankly, he doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself in for. You sit down opposite him and try to get comfortable. Trying to decide which question to start with another one pops into your head. You ask it before you can even think about whether that’s a good idea or not.

 

“How can you sit down, aren’t you non corporeal?” You’re embarrassed that this is your first question, he’s a real life ghost and this is what you ask him. He looks surprised and your face heats up a little.

 

He chuckles and answers, “I’m usually non corporeal but when I focus I can interact with things.”

 

You relax into the couch and ask him his name next. He may not be human but he is a person.

 

“I’m Damien.” You introduce yourself and after a pause launch into your questions. You ask how he came to be a ghost and he explains the tragic incident at the Mayor’s office, and how he died. After that all he remembers is being here, and never being able to leave or move on.

 

You move onto brighter topics and ask him about his abilities, what he can and can’t do. The two of you talk for quite a while before you get your fill, for now at least. You are curious about Damien’s history but you decide to save that conversation for another day. After a short silence he asks you about where you are from. You answer, a little surprised at his question. He continues to ask about your life and it leads into a pleasant, normal conversation. In fact you forget that he isn’t a guest you’re entertaining for awhile, but rather a ghost.

 

—

 

Things after that are nice, Damien isn’t around all the time but he does show up to talk most days. When you’re busy he spends breakfast or lunch with you and on your day off he asks you things about the world today. It reminds you that he’s a man out of time, you guessed from his attire and his manner of speaking that he’s decades out of time. It’s a sad thought so you don’t dwell on it, but it makes you glad you decided to trust him.

 

After a few weeks the two of you settle into a sort of pattern, and your ghost roommate becomes a part of your normal day. The only problem is, well, you start to notice things. Like how good his hair looks slicked back, or how well that suit fits him. You do your best to ignore these thoughts, he’s a  _ghost_  for godssakes, but then comes the dreams. You start dreaming about you and Damien in increasingly inappropriate situations. You want to bang your head against the wall, this is completely insane.

 

So when your friend calls you, inviting you out for a night of drinks you jump at the chance. You don’t even stop to think before you say yes. It’s good to get out of your apartment, and you haven’t seen your friend in a while. They ask you how things are going, and what’s kept you so busy lately. You realise that you haven’t been keeping up with your friends much lately, not that you’re ever good at that. You have this bad habit, you distance yourself from them a lot. Instead of answering you take another drink.

 

At the end of the night you’re lucky the bar calls you an Uber, you’re far too drunk to do it yourself, or drive. When you unlock the door to your apartment you immediately notice Damien.

 

“Where have you been?” You think he sounds…. worried? You don’t know why he’d be worried.

 

“I jus went out with…. with a friend.” You’re only slurring slightly, but you are very drunk. Maybe you won the drunk brain lottery but getting drunk is more like dissociating then anything else. It’s hard to think and you can’t really see, but you can still talk at least. Damien apparently, still notices.

 

“Are you drunk?”

 

“No… Yes.” Why bother lying? You’re tired and you just want to go to sleep, now.

 

You walk past him, you don’t really want to stay to hear whatever he has to say about that. You walk a few stumbling steps towards your bedroom. You’re stopped when your foot catches on something and it sends you careening forwards. You’re head is going to come down right on the edge of the dinning table and you have a moment to wince at how much that’s going to hurt. Before you can hit it warm arms wrap around your chest.

 

“Be careful.” Damien sounds scared you think but you’re immediately distracted by his arms around you. He’s holding you so gently yet so firmly. You relax into him and a wave of drowsiness overtakes you.

 

“Take me… take me to bed.” Something about that sentence is wrong, you’re pretty sure. If Damien’s chocking noise is anything to go by, you must have said it wrong. He still carries you to your room and lowers you onto the bed. He tucks you in and as he starts to move away you grab his suit keeping him close.

 

He looks at you questioningly.

 

“Damien. You’re beautiful.” It’s important he knows, you can’t remember why but it’s important. He blushes and pulls away, unclasping your hand from his suit.

 

“You’re drunk, you don’t mean what you’re saying.” He’s not getting it, it frustrates your tired, drunk brain.

 

“No, I mean it. I think it when I’m not drunk.” He stares, watching you. You smile and touch his cheek.

 

“I like your eyes, they’re so pretty and you’re so nice and polite to me all the time.” In the morning you’ll be embarrassed at how inelegant that statement is but right now you’re completely sure that’s what you need to tell him.

 

His blush deepens and he says, “Thank you..” somewhat awkwardly.

 

He steps back and composes himself.

 

“I’ll see you in the morning Y/N.”

 

Damien disappears and you close your eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

 

-

 

You wake up with a headache, you lay there with your eyes closed trying to process what happened last night. You remember going out for drinks, talking and drinking. More drinking, taking an Uber home and…. Damien was waiting for you. In the light of the morning and a sober mind his worry is obvious, you feel a little guilty for not telling him that you were going out for drinks now. You’re distracted from your guilt by your memories of last night. After you tried to walk away from him you tripped and nearly cracked your head open. You could have died, if Damien hadn’t caught you. Warmth fills your chest and you can’t help but smile, he really is a good friend. Your initial distrust seems so long ago now.

 

The next part of what happened is somewhat embarrassing. Did you really say that? And that cute noise Damien made when you did was adorable, but you probably embarrassed the poor guy. He carried you to bed and tucked you in…. and then you made a fool of yourself. You want to curl up in a ball out of embarrassment. You seriously said all that? Maybe you’d be better off forgetting everything that happened the night before, but you weren’t quite that drunk.

 

Now you lay in bed unmoving trying to gain the courage to face your friend after what you said to him last night. Eventually your hunger and thirst override your pride and you get up and take a shower. After freshening up you go out into the kitchen to find Damien cooking for you.

 

“Not something I ever expected to see.” He looks up from the eggs he’s frying and meets your eyes for a moment.

 

“I thought it might be nice to wake up to a cooked breakfast after the night you had.” You blush a little as the memories resurface. You immediately ignore them and focus on your guilt.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was going out last night.” He looks up questioningly.

 

“You don’t need to apologise, you don’t have to tell me when and where you’re going.”

 

“But I worried you, ” He doesn’t seem to have a reply to that, “And you deserved a warning that I might come home drunk.”

 

I didn’t go out with a plan in mind to get drunk, but it was always a possibility. Regardless of what he says I’ll definitely warn him next time. After the initial awkwardness things go back to normal. You sit down and eat the breakfast Damien has made. You take the first bite and it’s good, it’s really good. You thank him and start a conversation while you eat.

 

As you get ready for bed that night you realise that what happened yesterday didn’t really change anything. Your drunken ramblings were embarrassing sure, but Damien didn’t treat you any differently afterwards. You slide into bed and get comfortable. Your mind circles back around to him and you let yourself think about what you did last night and why. You are… attracted to him. No, it’s more than that. You have a crush on Damien. But it’s completely and utterly ridiculous, he’s dead. Nothing can happen between the two of you, he’s a ghost. But then you remember his arms around you last night, they had felt warm and solid. It’s not supposed to feel like that when you touch a ghost right? Who knows. It doesn’t change anything, you stubbornly tell yourself.  _It doesn’t_.

 

Over the next several weeks your crush doesn’t fade or even remain as it is, the way you’d hoped it would. It grows and takes root in you. Now you’re definitely fucked. And you’ve become obsessed with finding reasons to touch him, showing him movies and sitting close enough to brush shoulders. Sitting next to him in front of your computer showing him the nicer parts of the internet.

 

He’s warm, just like you remember. And he feels real, like a normal person. It doesn’t help your crush any. You really want to ask him about it, find out why he feels like that. But there’s a line you shouldn’t cross. One day, it ends up not mattering anyway. But for the record, you were totally right. It was awkward as hell.

 

“Y/N something has been bothering you, what is it?” He asks, all concerned and innocent to the ridiculousness going on inside your head.

 

“I…. it’s stupid don’t worry about it.” You’re nervous still, he might be uncomfortable with you asking this.

 

“Whatever it is you can tell me.” He says it so sincerely you really believe him.

 

“Why are you so warm?” You want to slap yourself. Really? That’s how you’re going to say it?

 

He looks surprised, and he stutters his reply a little.

 

“You…. you think I’m warm?” He’s blushing. Oh, you did embarrass him.

 

“I’m sorry, I just thought ghosts were supposed to be cold and… I didn’t think you’d feel like living people do.” Wow, this really has gotten awkward. Well done Y/N, you were right about one thing.

 

“Oh.” He doesn’t say anything else, you watch as he thinks about what to say next.

 

“I…. I’m not sure. I haven’t touched anyone else since I’ve died, so no one has been able to tell me what it feels like, before now.” Oh, well that’s not the answer you were expecting. Your heart aches a little at the thought of how long it’s been since someone touched Damien, how lonely that must be.

 

An idea occurs to you and you stand up from the couch you’ve been sitting on. You walk over to him and he looks up at you.

 

“Stand up, I’d like to try something.” You say gently.

 

Damien stands up, though his expression clearly says he isn’t sure what you’re planning.

 

“Can I give you a hug?” You ask quietly.

 

Damien looks at you, his expression is heartbreaking. He looks disbelieving that you’d trust him enough to do that, and like he wants nothing more than say yes.

 

“Yes.” He says shakily.

 

You pull him into a warm embrace, it’s the nicest hug you’ve had in a long time. And you hold onto him tightly even when he starts to let go when it’s been long enough for a regular hug. You keep hugging him for what feels like hours but it doesn’t feel awkward or boring, it feels perfect. Right now there’s nowhere you’d rather be.

 

Your first thought is how royally screwed you are. You are enjoying hugging him far too much. You finally let go of him and step back. There’s silence for a moment before Damien speaks.

 

“Thank you.” There’s something there he’s not saying, and you’re pretty sure that he really did need that.

 

You smile and reply, “Anytime,” He looks shocked at your casual offer. You hadn’t really meant to say that but you aren’t going to take it back now, and you wouldn’t mind anyway, “I mean it.”

 

He looks away, wonder in his eyes.

 

-

 

After that you slowly settle into the fact that you are romantically attracted to a ghost. Not freaking out about it turns out to be very relaxing. The only thing that changes after your hug is how much the two of you touch. It turns out Damien is a tactile person, because  _he never stops touching you_ , not that you’re complaining.

 

You show him video games and he takes to them more than you would ever have expected. So sitting down and playing a game becomes a nightly reoccurrance. Tonight you’re playing Mario Kart, you’ve been playing for half an hour and Damien is kicking your ass. He’s gotten damn good at this game and you’re hard pressed to win a race against him. You drop your controller and slump back into the couch, as Damien basks in his win.

 

“You won the entire GP again.” He looks over at you, and you swear you can see smugness in his eyes.

 

“Are you sure you’re from the 1920s? Because with gaming skills like that I’d think you were a YouTuber.” Let’s see him smug now. You showed him YouTube a while back, in fact the video game commentaries are what led him to ask you about video games. Really it’s YouTube’s fault your roommate is better at games than you.

 

He laughs, and despite your attempts to keep a straight face you join him.

 

“I don’t think I’d be cut out for it, I don’t have the theatrics that commentators do.” This conjures the hilarious image of what Damien  _would_  look like as a YouTuber in your mind.

 

You collapse into giggles. Damien just stares at you as you struggle to breathe.

 

“I think I’ve missed a joke.” You finally regain your composure and explain what you’ve just imagined.

 

“You are right most let’s players are very dramatic, so when you said that I just imagined how you’d react to things in games.” Damien doesn’t seem to get it.

 

“And this was…. humorous?”

 

“It was unexpected. Which can be funny yes, you’d be very unique at least.” Damien still just quite see the humour but he smiles beautifully.

 

Oh. You don’t try to fight the thought and instead just enjoy it. Damien is beautiful, blindingly so. There’s no immediate reaction from the other part of you that was fighting this before. You’re drawn from your thoughts when he speaks.

 

“What is on your mind?” You aren’t sure how to answer this question, so instead choose to ask one of your own.

 

“Okay, if you wouldn’t make a good YouTuber who do you think would?” It’s an innocent question, it doesn’t occur to you until he replies that everyone he knew is long dead.

 

“Mark, he was an old friend of mine. He was quite theatrical. He became an actor, I was going to see his most recent movie just days after…” He trails off and looks away sadly. Now you feel guilty, you hadn’t meant to bring up his past. It’s obviously a painful subject for him.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to unearth painful memories.” He shakes his head and the sadness melts away from his expression.

 

“Painful as the subjects are I know you are curious about my history. So I will tell you whatever you want to know.” He’s inviting you to ask, so…

 

“Who else? Who else were you close to back then?” It’s unfair to ask about friends but you want to know more about him, and what tells you more than who you’re friends are?

 

“Apart from Mark there was also William. He was, a military man. A colonel last I knew. He might have been promoted since. The three of us were quite close when we were young. We played together as children and that friendship lasted into adulthood.” There’s something he’s not saying but whatever it is it must be private so you don’t pry.

 

The thing that strikes you about that is, how similar it is to you. Damien had 2 close friends, and no one else worth speaking of. He didn’t even mention family, you know how lonely it is to be distant from them.

 

“No one else? Not even,” You can’t help but be curious, “A partner?”

 

Damien’s eyes widen and he smiles awkwardly.

 

“Uh, no. There was no one like that for me.” You don’t know why you asked. The hope rising in your chest is worrying though.

 

“Ah, me neither.” Clearly your mouth has no interest in listening to your brain. Like this will make it any less awkward.

 

It doesn’t. So you get up making an excuse about getting a drink from the kitchen. Once there you put the kettle on, you can’t come back empty-handed.

 

“What am I going to do? I’m falling in love with a dead man.” You don’t know why you say it out loud. Maybe because it’s the only way that you can admit it to yourself, maybe because you’re an idiot but regardless, the quiet gasp you hear behind you makes your heart stop.

 

You don’t want to, but you turn around to see Damien in the doorway looking to all the world like he’s just heard something he wasn’t supposed to.

 

“I was just coming to check up on you…” He says awkwardly, he doesn’t quite step into the room like he’s unsure what to do now.

 

Honestly,  _fuck_  your life.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean….” You scramble for an excuse, but there is none. And you can’t lie to him.

 

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” You look down and away from him. Waiting for him to tell you that he’s dead, nothing can happen between you and that he doesn’t feel that way about you anyway.

 

It’s going to hurt, not because you didn’t expect it, you do. But because your friendship won’t be the same afterwards, ruined for  _nothing_.

 

“But it is true?” You shrink into yourself, wanting him to get it over with.

 

“Yes.” Is all you can manage to say.

 

You flinch as you feel hands on your shoulders. He gently lowers them and catches your eye.

 

“That is good to hear, as I am falling for you too.” He stares into your eyes with fragility written across his face.

 

Oh.  _Oh_.

 

He feels the same. Inside your head you are exploding with relief and joy.

 

But wait, this is insane. He’s a ghost.

 

You frown, what happened to not letting that get in the way of your feelings for him? That was your feelings, this is a possible relationship, it’s different!

 

You argue with yourself in your mind until Damien drags you back to the present. He looks less confident, more regretful.

 

He steps back and drops his hands.

 

“Ah, I thought… clearly I should not have….” You interrupt him before he can get the wrong idea.

 

“Are we crazy?” Wow Y/N, once again you’ve found the exact wrong words to use.

 

“I mean, you’re a ghost and I’m not. Is that really the basis for… for a romantic relationship?”

 

“You want to remain as friends?” Damien looks pained as he says this, but ready to accept any answer.

 

You look at him, really look and see the deeper pain buried beneath. He expects this, to be pushed away. After so long, he doesn’t believe anyone would stay.

 

“No.” It’s absurd, impractical and probably impossible but honestly, like that’s going to stop you.

 

“I want it, I don’t know how this will work. But we’ll make it work.” You must have lost your mind.

 

The look on Damien’s face makes it worth it. And it will be worth every obstacle that inevitably comes. You walk over to him and pull him first into a hug before pulling back and looking into his eyes. You tilt your head and lean in slowly. His lips are soft and you kiss them for what feels like an eternity before breaking apart. You smile contentedly and grab his hand.

 

“Come on, let’s watch something.” You lead him back into the lounge room and sit down on the couch.

 

More than anything you just want to enjoy being close to him right now. You put on a movie so you don’t have to answer all the terrifying questions running through your head.

 

After the movie is finished neither of you move, both happy cuddling close on the couch.

 

“Hey Damien I’ve been meaning to ask you, can you change your appearance? I remember you wearing different clothes the morning you cooked my breakfast when I had a hangover.” You need another distraction, the questions are slowly resurfacing.

 

“Yes, I can change how others perceive me. I’ve only changed how I’m dressed so far but I believe I could do more than that.” Your mind immediately takes a dirty turn and you blush quite obviously.

 

“Is everything alright? Did I offend you?” He’s always worried about you, it’s endearing but your mind is just going places it shouldn’t be.

 

“No, not at all. I just had an inappropriate thought is all.” Before he can sit with that long enough to figure out what that means you get up and go grab your laptop.

 

“Where is somewhere you’ve always wanted to see? Or you’ve been that you miss?” You ask as you sit back down.

 

“Why do you ask, Y/N?” His frow furrows.

 

“Because I thought you might miss it, cooped up in here for decades.”  _Nearly a hundred years_  your mind unhelpfully reminds you.

 

“Oh, well yes there is a place. We would visit there when I was young.” He told you where and you searched for a livestream of it. After a few minutes of fruitless searching you were starting to think there wouldn’t be one, you could always show him a video of the place but it wasn’t the same. You wanted to find a live feed.

 

“Yes! I found it.” There is one, and it’s currently up too. You load it and pass the laptop to Damien. He looks from you to the screen.

 

“It’s a live recording, that’s happening right now.” You’ve shown him live streams, but never of a location. You’d had this idea a few weeks ago, you were just waiting for the right time to ask him.

 

He looks at you and thanks you quietly. He sits there and watches the screen, after a few minutes you get up and decide to make that cup of tea from earlier, it’s to late now for coffee. You drink it slowly and then wash your cup. You put away what little needs it and checks on Damien once more before heading off to bed.

 

“Still watching?” He looks up at you and seems to remember himself.

 

“Oh, I didn’t realise how long it had been.” He makes to give you the laptop.

 

“It’s alright, watch as long as you want.” You plug the charger into the laptop and bid him goodnight.

 

You sleep well that night, more relaxed than you have in a long while.

 

In the morning you find Damien gone and your laptop on the coffee table with a strange silver object sitting on top of it. You pick it up and continue your morning ritual. As you sit down to eat breakfast you examine it. It looks like a doorknob, round and smooth but it’s small, maybe it’s from a chest of drawers? Why would Damien leave it here.

 

“It was my cane.” You turn to see him standing in the lounge room. You want to ask him why he’d give it to you.

 

“Last night I realised that you might have gotten the impression that I am tied to the location of this building, but the truth is I’m tied to what is left of my cane. I could go anywhere, if someone was willing to take me.” A weight that had settled in your chest lifts. You could not stop myself wondering how our relationship would work if he could not leave your apartment.

 

Once again you are reminded how long it’s been since Damien has had someone who trusts him, who stays. You trust him, and you aren’t going anywhere without him. Your face breaks out into a smile.

 

“Then maybe one day we can do better than a livestream, I want to see all the places you use to go.” They won’t be the same as they were but it doesn’t matter, if they were Damien’s once you want to see them.

 

“Now that I know you’re not stuck here, I’m taking you out to dinner tonight.” You had fretted over the fact that you wouldn’t be able to take him out on dates.

 

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that. I don’t need to eat.”

 

“No you doof, I’m trying to take you out on our first date.” Though maybe he’s right, if he can’t eat it may not be very enjoyable for him. You’ll make sure to add something extra afterwards that doesn’t include food.

 

He blushes adorably, “Oh,” His expression changes from confusion to shock.

 

“Oh!”

 

“Yes, oh.”

 

“No, I should be the one taking you out like a proper gentleman.” You hold back your laughter, as you’re pretty sure it would offend him.

 

“Damien you’re already a perfect gentleman, and you don’t have any money to pay with anyway.” He concedes, but promises to take you out on a lovely second date.

 

You’re impressed by his confidence that our first date will go so well and tell him so. The embarrassed look he has at that sends you into fits of laughter. When you finally stop laughing, which is a while as the offended look Damien gives you when he figures out you were teasing him is priceless, you tell him something stupidly sappy.

 

“I’m so glad I met you. Really, I am so grateful to know you.” He does stutters at this and blushes, but the amazement in his eyes tells you enough, and you kiss him again.

 

As we get ready to leave for our date Damien asks you what he should wear, he’s not very familiar with current fashion. You look at him and mentally agree that he can’t wear a suit with a mayor pin on it. An outfit comes to mind and you quickly search for it on your phone. You show him the picture of what you mean and between one blink and the next he’s wearing it. He looks better than you imagined, so good it’s unfair really. Damien shouldn’t be able to pull off a sharp suit and flannel with jeans, he shouldn’t.

 

“You look great and very 21st century. Let’s go.” You drag yourself away from the sight of him in plaid and make a mental note to find a way to get him into it again in the future.

 

The restaurant you picked out is nice enough, nothing fancy. It’s a small italian place your friend recommended to you. You’re not complaining, you love italian food. You look at the menu and pick out a pasta, Damien does the same. Thinking about food reminds you of Damien’s predicament.

 

“Hey I was wondering, I know you don’t eat but can you taste?” My curiosity will get me into trouble one day.

 

“I’m not sure, I’ve never tried to eat as a ghost.” You suddenly regret not sharing any of the breakfasts Damien has sat with you. What’s going to happen when he eats? You stop that train of thought. You’ll find out soon enough.

 

You change the subject and the two of you talk animatedly until your food arrives. As the waiter leaves you watch as Damien takes his first bite. His face lights up and he savours the flavour of his pasta.

 

“You seem to be enjoying that. I’ll have to bring you out more often then.” You chuckle.

 

“Indeed I am! It has been to long, and I am not opposed to that. I’m enjoying this date greatly.” He looks happy, and this smile is contagious. It’s good to see him like this.

 

The warm contentment lingers between you for the rest of dinner. As you go up to pay the bill Damien excuses himself for a moment, you don’t question him until after you’re both outside the restaurant.

 

“Where’d you go?”

 

“It’s a rather indelicate matter, I shouldn’t make you hear it.” He gets very formal when he’s flustered or embarrassed, it’s cute.

 

“Come on, from what I know ghosts don’t use the bathroom.”

 

“Ah, that is exactly it.” You look at him questioningly. He looks embarrassed but he continues.

 

“I cannot digest food, so it simply sits in my stomach until I become non corporeal.” Now you get it, but it’s a little funny really.

 

“That must be a pretty strange feeling.”

 

“Indeed.” Is all he says.

 

“Well I have more planned for us, if you’re up for it.” He nods enthusiastically.

 

“I am glad, I’m very much enjoying our time together.” You smile at that.

 

“Then you would be interested in a night market and a walk by the beach?” He agrees and you both get into your car.

 

You park the car and walk over to the market. Strings of hanging lights brighten the sidewalk as people walk between the stores buying and selling things. The two of you slowly walk through the market stopping when a vendor peaked your interest. Damien was quite the charmer and all the shop owners loved you.

 

After browsing for a while you walk further past where the market ends and walk down towards the beach. The sounds of people fade and the only light illuminating your path is the moon. Neither of you speak, just enjoying the quiet as you walk. After a while Damien breaks the silence.

 

“We’ve been walking for a long while, we should head back.” You hadn’t realised how far you’d walked. You agree to turn back.

 

As you turn around and begin to walk the way you came Damien’s hand closes around your arm. You stop and look back at him ready to ask what he needs. He moves in close to you and puts a hand on your cheek. He draws you in for your third kiss. It’s just as soft and sweet as the others.

 

You both continue on, walking back hands intertwined.

 

On the drive back you think about how gentle Damien has been with you, if you want things to go further you will have to initiate it. Which is why when you lock the door or your apartment behind you, you push Damien up against it. He asks what you’re doing, startled.

 

“Kissing you.” And you do kiss him, faster than before. As he gasps you lick your way inside his mouth. You pull away from the kiss and look at him bewildered.

 

“You have no saliva.” You could smack yourself, seriously? Of course he doesn’t, he’s dead. It had taken you aback so completely you hadn’t stopped to think why. You haven’t had a lot of relationships before this one, but you’ve kissed enough people to come to expect them to have saliva when you do.

 

“Is that an issue?” Damien seems to be catching up after the short break.

 

“No, just caught me off guard is all.” He eagerly pulls you back in, stopping just before his lips touch yours. He’s asking for permission, Damien always the gentleman. You close the distance.

 

For the sake of comfort you soon move your make out session to the couch. As it gets later you grow tired and retire to bed.

 

In the morning the two of you cook breakfast together, and enjoy sharing it. It’s nice to eat with him casually, even if he doesn’t need the food.

 

You have work to do today so you can’t spend the whole day together but you plan some game time out for later.

 

-

 

Two weeks later he asks you at breakfast.

 

“Will you accompany me on a second date tonight?” You agree and ask him the time and dress code.

 

“Be ready at 5, and wear something warm.” Cryptic.

 

At 5 you wait at the door. Damien appears in warm clothes, even a scarf and gloves.

 

“This is appropriate attire by modern standards, yes?” He asks you.

 

“Uh yeah, but why are you dressed like we’re going out in the snow? I didn’t think ghosts got cold.”

 

“We don’t, I would prefer to blend in is all.” You don’t question him further.

 

“Well then, where are we off to Mr. Mayor?” You like the way he gets exasperated at your teasing.

 

He leads you down to your car and tells you he will direct you to where you’re going. You ask him if he’s sure he knows the way, the city has changed a lot over the years.

 

“I have been taking the cane and exploring the city at night. I wanted to find the best place to take you.” Oh, well that’s quite sweet.

 

Conversation stops after that and neither of you talk except when Damien speaks up to give you directions. He directs you out of the city into the hills but you hold back your questions, you’ll find out where you’re going soon enough.

 

You park the car and get out. Looking around you see a flat grassy area and beyond that the city laid out in front of you. It’s a beautiful few. You turn around to tell him so, and notice that he’s opening the trunk of your car. He pulls out a picnic basket. He walks over to the grass and you follow him, wondering how he got the basket and whatever was inside it. He lays out a blanket and you sit down. As he starts to pull out food and drinks you focus on the view. It’s so quiet up here, and as the sun begins to dip low the city is a beautiful sight.

 

“Thank you.” You turn to him and say. He stops what he’s doing and looks at you.

 

“It’s a beautiful date.” He smiles and you notice him relax a little. He must have been nervous, well there was no point. It’s a lovely place to come for a date.

 

You both sit and enjoy drinking and eating, talking occasionally. But you mostly say nothing and just enjoy the quiet, you rarely get quiet like this these days. That’s the problem with a city apartment.

 

You were born in this city but your parents moved to another state when you were young. You still lived in a city but it had been smaller and you lived in the suburbs. You tell Damien about your childhood, and ask him about his. You two talk for what feels like hours. You could stay here forever, with him looking at this view. Not to mention the good food and nice wine.

 

But you’re guessing that there is more to the date, as Damien warned you not to drink enough to get drunk earlier. Your suspicions are confirmed when he starts to pack up the picnic saying that we should be onto the next stage of the date. You help him and you’re both back in the car in minutes.

 

“Where to next?” You question him.

 

He gives you directions back into the city, and you soon find yourself parking your car in front of an ice rink. It’s late enough now that it’s closed. You look over to question Damien but he’s disappeared. You look around and can’t see him anywhere. Where did he go? He didn’t leave did he?

 

Get a grip, of course he didn’t. He’ll be back.

 

You wait patiently, and a minute goes by. It’s cold and quiet. You like the quiet less now that you’re alone. Just as you start to feel uncomfortable you hear him call out to you. You look over to see that he has the front doors to the ice rink open. You walk over to them.

 

“Sorry, I just had to turn everything on.” Does he mean…

 

He does. You walk inside to see all the lights on. You turn back to look at him.

 

“You didn’t.” You say incredulously.

 

“I thought it might be nice to go ice skating, without interruption.” He really did set up an ice rink for just the two of you.

 

You quickly go over to the counter and start looking for your size skates. You haven’t been skating in a long time, and the idea of getting back on the ice however scary excites you. Once you both have skates on you walk through the doors into the rink. The lights are on and the rink looks inviting.

 

“Go ahead, it’s all yours.” You hear him say behind you.

 

You walk over to the entry point and slowly step onto the ice. You quickly step fully on and slowly drift away from the barrier.

 

Breathe. You’re going to be fine, you use to love skating. Just give yourself a minute, you’ll find your feet. You hear Damien skate out behind you and feel his hands on your waist a moment later.

 

“Are you okay?” That question is enough to remind you that you’re not alone. You will be fine, Damien wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

 

With new confidence you push off and skate across the rink. Your feet find their rhythm like all those years ago. You turn around ans smile so big it hurts.

 

“I’m great.” Damien laughs a little and skates towards you. You skate away before he can reach you. This quickly turns into a game of cat and mouse but Damien never quite catches you.

 

He skates to a stop and stands back against the barrier.

 

“I give up, I cannot catch you.”

 

“Ha, you had no chance from the start. I loved to skate when I was young.” He surprise is coloured by a smile.

 

“I admit that I have only been on the ice a few times in my life, and I am no match for your skill.” That sparks an idea in your mind.

 

You tell Damien to wait here and you leave the ice. It only takes you a minute to find the outlet for the speakers and you plug your phone in. Your click the playlist titled ‘Damien’. Soft piano begins to play as you skate back out onto the ice. You come to a stop in front of him and reach out your hand.

 

“Dance with me.” You say.

 

He take your hand and you lead him out into the center. You slowly lead him into a dance. You never took serious ice dancing lessons but you watched enough people do it to have an idea of how it goes. The two of you dance, synchronised for as long as it takes for the playlist to end.

 

As the final notes of the last song play you both come to a stop. You stand there for a moment, just looking at each other. You try to memorise his face, the deep brown of his eyes softened by kindness, the lines on his face just barely formed, the way his hair is ruffled.

 

“It’s getting late.” You finally whisper.

 

Without meaning to you mirror the lyrics of the last song. A beautiful cover that you found online. You can’t remember who sent you the link to it, but you much prefer it to the original.

 

Damien nods and you both skate to the entrance and leave the rink. You untie your skates in silence. Damien sits and waits, already changed as he only had to think them different. The drive back is quiet too. Once you’re back in your apartment Damien kisses you goodnight and disappears.

 

Something changed between you after you danced and you’re not sure what it is. You continue to think about it as you get ready for bed. When your head hits your pillow you’re so tired you fall straight to sleep. Your dreams are strange, they’re like memories, no they  _are_  memories but Damien is there. He’s dressed in his suit and he’s congratulating you on becoming the District Attorney.

 

Of course he is, that’s who you are, an old friend of the Mayor from college, now the District Attorney. But it doesn’t make any sense, you didn’t remember any of this but now you do. Or, bits and pieces of it. Suddenly something changes, there’s fire and Damien is trapped. You’re trying to get to him but someone is pulling you away, away, away.

 

You’re outside the building and there’s smoke everywhere and when they finally bring out his body he’s dead.

 

You wake up in a cold sweat. Dream clear in your mind you sit up. You take a moment to breathe and process your dream. Damien. That’s the first thing that registers. He was there… and so were you, but you weren’t you. You were  _them_. And… just how?

 

You don’t fully remember but there are memories in your mind, of going to college with him and working as an attorney. You were them, before you were you. You sit and think about this, and one thought plays through your mind.

 

You need to speak to Damien.

 

You look over at the clock and it reads 6:23 am. You sigh and settle in. You’ll get up at 7. Until then you can just distract yourself with your phone. Half an hour goes by in a flash and you get up and get dressed. You walk out into the kitchen to see Damien sitting at the table reading a book. He looks up surprised, you never get up this early.

 

“We need to talk.” You say. Damien immediately puts down the book, you know he can tell by your tone that something is wrong.

 

“So, when were you going to tell me about the District Attorney?” Damien’s eyes widen abd your stomach drops but you hold your hard expression. This conversation is not going to be fun for either of you.

 

You sit down opposite him, this could take a while.

 

“So why didn’t you tell me about them?” If he knows, you’re heart will shatter in your chest, you’re pretty sure.

 

“Because I….” He stops, you’re stomach drops further when he doesn’t ask you how you know.

 

“So you know then.” You don’t say it like a question. But he looks at you confused. You don’t want to explain, but maybe, maybe he doesn’t know. You hold onto the hope, you can’t handle this betrayal.

 

“I dreamt about them last night, more specifically the night you died. In the dream I was them. In fact it wasn’t a dream, it was a memory.” His shock isn’t fake, and neither is your relief.

 

“Y… Y/N?” He says their name and you hate how familiar it feels.

 

“Yes, no. I think so.” You look at him more scared than you’ve ever been.

 

“I only remember bits and pieces, but it doesn’t make sense. It’s impossible!” You want to scream or cry from the fear and confusion, they’re overwhelming you.

 

“Y/N,” He says your name and you look at him, “Not long ago you believed that I was impossible.”  _That_ , is a very good point and it helps you to calm down a little.

 

“But how? And did you really not know?” You’re almost sure but you need to hear him say it.

 

He looks scandalised at what you’re implying.

 

“Of course not! If I did I would have told you, I would never hide that from you.” You already knew it but it’s relieving to hear.

 

“Okay, yeah. Sorry I shouldn’t have jumped to the worst conclusion. I mean we don’t even have the same name.”

 

“Or face.” That surprises you, but it makes sense. Probably, you’re not really sure what the rules are yet. But genetically speaking, it makes sense.

 

“Do we look similar?” Maybe it’s not the best time, you should be asking him more about what’s going on but damn it, you’re curious.

 

He furrows his brow in thought as he contemplates you. After a minute he answers.

 

“Your features are different, but in some way…. yes. I can’t explain it, but you remind me of them.” His use of slang doesn’t go unnoticed, and you feel a small bit of pride at the fact that he’s picking it up. You shove that thought away for later and focus on the now.

 

“That at least makes sense.” He raises his eyebrows, questioning your logic. You blush and stutter, you’re still out of depth here.

 

A thought occurs to you, what did you do when you found out about Damien?

 

“We need to do research, find out how this is possible.” You’re not sure if you’ll find anything actually useful but it’s worth a shot. With the books and the internet combined you’re sure to find something.

 

You decide that you don’t want to dwell on this conversation any longer, it’s been an emotional morning. A good distraction is what you need.

 

“Let’s go to the library.” You say as you stand from the table. Damien is suitably surprised at this change in direction.

 

“Come on, the sooner we start research the sooner we’ll get answers.” He follows you out of the apartment after that, without comment.

 

He’s unusually quite in the car and doesn’t reciprocate your attempts at conversation. As you arrive at the library you turn off the car and look over at him.

 

“Okay, what’s bothering you?” You ask.

 

“Pardon?” He replies.

 

“You’ve been off since our conversation at… well not breakfast but you know, this morning.”

 

Damien looks away awkwardly trying to avoid answering. He looks out the window at the library entrance.

 

“We should go in, you were enthusiastic about figuring out this mystery earlier.” He’s definitely trying to avoid answering.

 

“Not until you tell me what’s bothering you.” You keep your voice steady, you don’t want an argument.

 

“Why?” He asks desperately.

 

“Because that’s what partners do for each other, they care.”

 

“Are we still truly together?” His question blindsides you.

 

“What? Of course!” He turns away from the window to look at you pointedly.

 

“You thought I was lying and hiding the truth about our past. If I had been, we would not still be speaking.” You blush a little at the call out and agree with his point.

 

“I’m sorry for thinking the worst, you’ve done nothing that would suggest you were that kind of person. I was wrong to accuse you, the only explanation for my actions I have is that I was scared and confused about what was going on. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.” You pause to take a breath and watch his reaction.

 

Damien visibly loses some of his tension and he nods. He catches your eye and you know he doesn’t hold any ill will over it.

 

“As for the second part, it may be true but it doesn’t matter because it didn’t happen. There’s no point dwelling on it.” Damien nods and you open your door and step out of the car.

 

You’re glad that, that is over.

 

-

 

You’re both crowding around a computer screen. There are books strewn across the table, most of them open. You’ve found a lot of information, but most of it is useless. A lot of books talk about the possibility of rebirth but none of them have any solid evidence, or any suggestions for what one might do if they suddenly find out that they have in fact lived an entire life before the one they’re living now.

 

Scrolling slowly on another site that you can already tell is a dead end, your mind starts to wander. Damien, your boyfriend, the reason all this started. He’s a ghost, and now you find out that this is your second life. You certainly make quite the pair. You snort out loud and Damien looks at you questioningly. You wave him off and go back to reading the article.

 

After finding a few more sites with no useful info you finally give up and call it a day. You do borrow out a few of the more promising books and promise to yourself that you’ll keep looking.

 

Later that day you’re sitting on the lounge browsing online when you come across the video of that cover you like. Your friend is a fan of the channel and they were the one who sent you the song. Your cursor hovers over his name, they’ve been asking you to watch his stuff for a long time but you’ve never gotten around to it. You’re not sure why you’re hesitating but you decide to just click it. What’s the worst that could happen? You liked the cover, and you watch a few other gamers. He’s so popular he must be alright, at least.

 

His channel loads and you click the first video you see, it’s something from his recent uploads. As the video loads you see that it’s a let’s play, as expected. But the video is 2 hours long? No way are you watching all of that, no matter how funny this Markiplier supposedly is.

 

The video loads and for a moment everything looks normal enough and you settle in for a long video, but then your eyes fall on the guy’s face cam.

 

You freeze. The video plays and he starts to speak but you’re not even paying attention. It’s impossible.  _He looks exactly like Damien_. You pause the video and call out to Damien. As you wait for him to come in you distantly think that this is just too much for one day.

 

He comes in and quickly moves over to you as soon as he sees your expression. He sits down on the couch next you. You meet his eyes and clutch the pc in your lap a little tighter.

 

“What is it Y/N,” He asks glancing down at the computer, “Did you find information about your strange predicament?” Oh, he thinks this is about your reincarnation or whatever. He could not be more wrong.

 

“No.” You reply shakily. You turn the laptop towards him and press play.

 

You watch him as his expression becomes shocked.

 

“How? He looks just like you, how can he be… is he related to you?” It sounds far-fetched even to your own ears.

 

“No, he’s an old friend. But he should be dead by now, not a young man.” Dread fills you as you prepare to ask the next question.

 

“Damien, who is he?”

 

“Mark, he’s Mark Fischbach.”

 

“Markiplier.” You whisper to yourself. But Damien hears you and nods gravely.

 

“That was his stage name when he was an actor.”

 

“An actor? What is an actor from the 1920s doing, as a let’s player in the 2010s?” At this point you’re honestly getting tired of all the (previously thought) impossible things that keep happening.

 

Can you ever catch a break?

 

“I do not know, but I remember in my early days as a ghost that there was an article in the paper about there being a tragedy at his manor. Whatever happened that day, we need to find out, because I fear it holds more answers than we know.” You hate it, but you have to agree.

 

You start planning your trip to LA that night, you have to see Mark for yourselves. And it turns out to be pretty easy to dig up info on what happened at the manor. Mark was shot  _supposedly_  by a friend of his, the Colonel William. He was the main suspect and was wanted for questioning but he disappeared off the face of the earth.

 

“Must have moved to Cincinnati.” You mutter as you read that. Damien gives you a questioning look. You don’t answer his unspoken question. You have already looked up Mark and found his wiki, which is why you know he lives in LA, and that he ‘grew up’ in Cincinnati. A disturbing theory about what happened that night is forming in your mind, but you don’t voice it to Damien yet. If you’re wrong it would hurt him unnecessarily.

 

You don’t have a solid plan for finding Mark once you are in LA yet, but you have a few ideas. You spend the next two days preparing and getting a head on your writing. You are going to take your laptop with you, but you’re not sure how much time you will have to write. As much as you want to just run off and solve this mystery you still have to be a responsible adult and make sure your work is done.

 

You pack your belongings into your car and hit the road, it’s going to be a bit of a drive but you don’t really have the money to fly. The first few hours are quiet while you focus on driving and trying to decide how to contact Mark. He’s pretty careful about not giving away where he lives, which you understand he does have a lot of fans.

 

There is a convention coming up in LA that Mark is apparently going to, you chew your lip in thought. It’s  _risky_. Having Damien in such a crowded place with lots of people who know what Mark looks like. But on the other hand, it’s the best way to meet him face to face. If you could just hide Damien’s face…. of course! You could smack yourself, it’s a convention, people cosplay!

 

“Can you take a turn driving? I need to book tickets to an event.” You say as you pull the car onto the side of the road.

 

“Of course,” You swap sides and open your phone typing in the con name, “What event if I may ask?”

 

You explain what the convention is and what it’s about. Damien agrees that is likely the best way to meet the man. And hesitantly agrees to wear a costume. It will have to be something hired, but that doesn’t really matter. With that settled you relax into the drive and conversation picks up.

 

LA is warm, that’s one of the first things you notice when you step out of car at your motel. It’s warmer than your city, anyway. You check into your room and dump your stuff off, deciding to go get something to eat. You feel slightly guilty leaving Damien behind but his face is too recognisable, and he doesn’t want to give away to Mark that you’re in town.

 

After a filling meal, that consisted of junk food you sit down with Damien to seriously talk about how you want to approach this. You also reluctantly admit your suspicions about the events at the manor. He sits and listens horrified as you tell him that you think Mark framed the Colonel and escaped with his identity.

 

As a writer it makes narrative sense to you, that doesn’t mean it happened that way but it has a logic to it. And Damien tells you that Mark had been off before the fire, and while he would never have thought his friend would do that before he might have then. You both agree to tread carefully with Mark, as neither of you know his motivations. Damien ends the conversation and tells you to get some rest.

 

In the morning you plan out a few places you want to see. And Damien decks himself out in sunglasses and a beanie, hopefully that will be enough to hide his face. The day is spent seeing the sights, and you enjoy Damien’s wonder at the science center’s recent exhibits. There’s only one close call, where a kid stares at Damien for a long time and exclaims Markiplier. When neither of you react accordingly his mother drags him away embarrassed.

 

You worry a little, but there’s only really tomorrow as a danger. The convention starts the day after that, and your days following will be full of trying to catch a moment with the YouTuber. Sitting in your motel room thinking back on the day you’re reminded of how much fun this is. But it won’t last, whatever happens with Mark you hope there’s more chances like this.

 

You promise to yourself that you’ll cherish tomorrow and enjoy it twice as much. The only thing you really have to do is pick up a costume. Thursday, the convention is tomorrow. Your quiet enough in the morning for Damien to ask you what’s wrong. You’re just scared about what’s going to happen. But you push that from your mind and enjoy the time that you have.

 

The first stop you make is a costume hire, you have another one as a back if you can’t find anything good here. You browse and joke around with for a while. There’s some strange costumes for sure, when your hand touches a smooth black material you reckon as a cloak you pull the costume off the rack. It’s perfect. You hire it for tomorrow and move on to your other plans for the day. Damien asks you what the costume is a reference to, and you curse yourself for not showing Damien the Harry Potter movies sooner. You start explaining the books from the beginning and even pick up a copy of the 4th movie to show him later.

 

At the end of a great day you head back to your motel, it feels like every second is taking you closer to the inevitable. You feel like something horrible is going to happen tomorrow, but you’re not sure why. You order food and put the movie on, doing your best not to think about the dread you feel. You can’t change what’s going to happen by worrying about it now, so you do your best to focus on the movie. It fails miserably of course, but luckily you’ve seen these movies enough times that even though you missed all of that you manage to keep up with Damien’s excited theorising about the next movie. You smile and say nothing, making note to show him the next one when you get home.

 

 _Home_. Your city apartment, that’s not something you ever really expected to call it. There’s nothing wrong with the place, but it’s not really where you planned to stay. It was always temporary, and yet in a few short weeks it’s become a home. Damien has made it one.

 

“Thank you.” You interrupt him and he stops confused.

 

“Thank you for coming into my life, you have given me something priceless. And whatever happens tomorrow, I don’t want to lose it.” You say slowly and deliberately.

 

“You’re thanking me? I should be thanking you, for trusting me. For letting me into your life, I have created burdens for you and yet you continue to want me to stay.” You don’t know how to tell him that none of that matters, so you pull him into a hug and whisper it in his ear.

 

You pull back and kiss him. Things get heated and you pull away, not wanting this to go further yet. It’s not the right time, or place.

 

You go to bed, fears about tomorrow returning.

 

-

 

The convention is packed. There are people everywhere, abd you’ve already spotted 3 people wearing Markiplier shirts. You’re glad you had the sense to get Damien a costume. He looks good as a death eater, the dark clothes suit him.

 

The two of you are walking the floor, Mark is supposed to be doing the same. Or he said as much in his panel earlier. You and Damien sat in on it, it would have been fun if you weren’t so damn suspicious of the man. There is a slim chance that he is not as guilty as he looks. And you keep that in the back of your mind, it helps you to relax a little actually.

 

There are so many people here it’s a little dizzying. But you ignore the noise and scan the crowd as you walk. Damien does the same. You walk for a while and begin to lose hope, he’ll be scheduled for something like a signing soon enough. You’ll have to try again tomorrow.

 

“I see him.” Damien grips your arm and pulls you around to see where he’s looking. And he’s right, just a few feet away stands Mark Fischbach talking to a group of fans.

 

You stare frozen for a moment, Damien doesn’t move either. Mark says something to them and starts to walk away, in your direction. You snap out of it and pull Damien towards Mark. He meets your eyes for a moment and plasters on a smile, it looks real enough but you know it’s just for the fans.

 

“Hello.” He says warmly.

 

“Hi,” You smile and get into character, “This is really awesome.” Mark chuckles.

 

“My friend has been dying to meet you.” You turn to Damien, he hasn’t spoken yet. Mark looks at him too.

 

“Yes, it’s been too long olf friend.” Mark freezes at the sound of Damien’s voice. His smile drops as Damien pulls the mask off. Shock and possibly fear mare Mark’s face. His eyes flick back over to you for a moment and then back to Damien.

 

“Before you speak, I should give you this.” You give him a folded piece of paper.

 

“All we want to do is talk. But not here,” You say glancing around, “For obvious reasons.”

 

He stares at us, clearly lost for words. Slowly he speaks.

 

“Okay. But I can’t do this right now.” You snort at that.

 

“Obviously. Meet us there tomorrow at 4.” Damien puts his mask back on and you turn away from Mark.

 

Once far enough away you exhale shakily.

 

“Fuck.” Damien chuckles at your choice of word and after a moment you crack a smile too.

 

You go back to the motel and spend the afternoon planning, now that you’ve found Mark you need to be prepared for him to say just about anything. After a while you both let the topic go, there’s only so much you can prepare for a conversation like the one to come. Conversion moves onto lighter topics and you order in some food. You continue to talk late into the night, nit falling asleep until the early hours. On an unrelated note, you sleep in late the next day. Not that it matters as you don’t have anywhere to be until 4. You enjoy a slow lunch and try to remain calm, whatever happens with Mark, happens. Worrying about it now helps nothing.

 

You arrive at the coffee shop a little before 4. You and Damien agreed you wanted to find the best table for a private conversation and wait for Mark. Once seated in the corner as far removed from prying eyes as you can hope to be, you study Damien. He’s fitting in well, or his outfit is. He’s wearing a sweater and scarf with sunglasses. You decide it’s not really his look, even if he does good. Can something ever  _not_  be his look? He looks good in everything.

 

You distract yourself from your thoughts by making small talk with him. You nurse a coffee while you wait, you picked the place for the quiet corner but their coffee isn’t half bad either.

 

Mark walks in 10 minutes later and his eyes find you instantly. He slowly walks over and sits down.

 

“You might want to order a drink. I don’t expect this to be quick.” Mark’s shoulders hunch in a little and he gets up to order a coffee.

 

He comes back with his drink and sits down across from you and Damien.

 

“Okay, what do you guys want from me.” You scoff, seriously? Mark just looks at you eyebrows raised in question.

 

“Y/N and I want to know what happened at the Manor.” Damien, always the diplomat. Comes with the territory you suppose.

 

“Yes, the papers from back then weren’t very enlightening.” You lean forward in your seat and rest your elbows on the table, staring at Mark’s intently.

 

“We’re also wondering why you haven’t aged.” Mark’s eyes flick to Damien before meeting yours again.

 

“I could ask the the same of you.” He doesn’t know about Damien, which makes sense when you think about it. It still takes you by surprise.

 

“I died, death doesn’t really allow for aging.” You want to laugh at Damien’s words, even if his tone wasn’t quite deadpan it was still hilarious. Mark is clearly taken aback by how replied, his expression quickly morphs into confusion.

 

“He’s a ghost.” You add helpfully.

 

You don’t trust Mark, and you’re not sure whether honestly is the best policy but yesterday was exhausting. And that conversation only lasted a few minutes. You’d rather just deal with the concequences as they come and just be honest now.

 

“I thought… you must have survived the fire somehow…” He trails off.

 

“You thought wrong, now why haven’t you aged a day in so many decades? And what happened at the manor?” You ask impatiently. It’s better to keep Mark on his back foot, even if being this aggressive doesn’t really make you feel comfortable.

 

“I uh…” He pauses, looking for a way out of admitting the truth, “It was the house.”

 

You raise your eyebrows. You glance over at Damien and he looks equally surprised.

 

“Explain.”

 

“There was… some kind of dark force in it,” He frowns, “I was in a bad place after the Colonel took Celine and it used that to twist my mind.”

 

None of this is what you expected to hear, but it is relieving to know that he might not be as guilty as he looks.

 

“It eventually convinced me to throw a party and invite the Colonel. I was to frame him for my murder and steal his body.”

 

You gasp quietly. That’s almost what you theorised, maybe the attorney is shining through in you, putting the pieces together.

 

“It worked. It worked too  _damn_  well.” The guilt is clear as day on his face when he says this.

 

“It wasn’t till months had passed that I finally started to realise what I’d done. Out of the house for long enough, it’s influence on me started to fade. And I was horrified at what I’d done to my former friend.” He looks at Damien in the eyes, pleading with him to believe him.

 

“I would never have done that to William, I may have been royally pissed at him after what happened but I would never have done that.”

 

You don’t trust him, and you’re not sure whether he’s telling the truth but…. you want to believe him. You want to. And Damien is looking like he might believe Mark too.

 

“What happened after that?” You ask, Damien hasn’t spoken in a while but he’s being faced with an old friend and you both agreed that you would take the lead if he couldn’t handle it.

 

Damien is no stranger to conflict, but Mark was his friend once and with those kinds of feelings in the mix he confessed that he might not be able to present a strong front.

 

“To me?” Mark asks.

 

“To the house, what happened to the dark… entity in the house?” You reply.

 

“I don’t know.” You stare at Mark.

 

“You don’t know.” You repeat flatly.

 

“I didn’t ever go back.” Both you and Damien stare, anger rising in you chest. How dare he?

 

“How could you do nothing? How could you leave the manor that way for someone else to find. What about the person who moved there after you disappeared?” Damien accuses Mark before you can. He doesn’t stand up, doesn’t even raise his voice. But you can see how angry he is. And a glance at Mark reveals that he sees it too.

 

“I know, okay? I was a coward.”

 

Damien doesn’t have anything to say to that.

 

“Are you still a coward?” He looks up at you, and you raise your eyebrow in challenge.

 

“Or are you going to come with us to fix this.” Damien looks over at you. You don’t acknowledge him. He’s just as angry as you, and in this situation there’s only one thing to do about it.

 

“Because we’re going to deal with whatever is in that house, so if you really mean everything you said,” Mark nods, “Then you’ll help us.”

 

He’s quiet for a minute, when he speaks its slow and hesitant but there’s an underlying tone of conviction.

 

“Okay. Then let’s kill a demon.”

 

A lot of weird things have happened to you since you moved into your apartment, but this has to be the strangest yet.

 

“Did you say demon?” Your stomach twists when Mark nods.

 

“Are you quite sure? That seems…. unlikely.” Damien nearly said impossible you’re pretty sure but clearly he sees the irony in that statement considering his own predicament.

 

You sigh dramatically and say, “Then I guess we better start researching.”

 

The three of you talk for a while longer, working out the logistics of when and how you will do the research. Mark offers his home as a place to stay, you agree but then he points out that it will be easier to research it together in the same house and you relent.

 

Over the next few days you research and gather demon-repelling objects. Most of what you know is somewhat accurate, but you learn a lot about cleansing and banishing demonic energies. Damien is strangely hesitant about the witchcraft aspect, which is understandable. It’s become a lot more acceptable over the years. In the end Mark reminds him that he’s a ghost, he doesn’t really have room to judge and he grudgingly agrees.

 

You’re sitting down for dinner on the third night of staying with Mark when you accidentally let slip who you really are. Or use to be. The three of you sit eating dinner in awkward silence. Over the past few nights Mark has made attempts at conversation but his curious nature has lead to questions. Dodging them has been exhausting, and tonight you’re not in the mood. Mark apparently, doesn’t care.

 

“So Y/N, how did you get involved with all this? Why is this so important to you?” Mark asks casually as he eats.

 

“I already told you how I met Damien.” You don’t really read into his words, mostly irritated that he’s asking in the first place.

 

“But that doesn’t explain why you care about fixing this so much.” He points out.

 

“I care about him, I’m pretty sure I’ve made that clear.” Frustration underlines your words and you hope Mark will take the hint and stop.

 

“How long have you known him? A few weeks? That doesn’t make any sense, you act like this personal!” He doesn’t take kindly to your attempts to ignore him. Finally you snap and reply without thinking.

 

“I haven’t known him a few weeks, I’ve known him since college! So of course it’s personal, he’s been my best friend for a decade.” As you finish speaking you realise exactly what you just said. You stare at Mark’s shocked face and try not to panic. What does it matter if he knows? Who are you kidding, you still don’t trust him as far as you can throw him why would you want him to know personal information about you?

 

“Y…. Y/N.” You barely stop yourself from jerking forward at the mention of your old name. The District Attorney’s name.

 

You stare at Mark for a long minute before sighing.

 

“Yes,” You look down at the table as you speak, “I don’t remember everything but I remember enough to know that I was the District Attorney….. Y/N, before I was me.”

 

Mark searches your face, as if looking for a sign of them. But he must find something else because he changes the subject abruptly, and through the rest of dinner he doesn’t bring it back up.

 

The next time he does is two days later, and you are alone with him. You’re finalising your plan for dealing with the house, you have a cleansing ritual as well as a banishing one and finally a home protection that you’ll place afterwards. You read over the list of supplies, checking off what you have as you go. You’ve done this all before and you’re sure everything is here, but it’s last checks because you’re driving out in the morning, going straight to the house to get this done. Mark breaks the comfortable silence that’s finally settled over the two of you.

 

“How much do you remember?” You stop what you’re doing and put down the check list.

 

“I was hoping you were going to leave this alone.” You sigh.

 

“At first I didn’t get why you hated me so much, it seemed so much more personal than someone who just heard what I did. But you knew me, before everything. And you knew Damien, and as the Colonel’s friend-” You interrupt him.

 

“He would have been there.” Mark’s eyes widen, but that’s the only indication that you said something he didn’t expect.

 

“What? You think I’m an idiot, you invited me to that party. I refused because I was grieving the loss of my closest friend but I know that if you invited me, then you invited Damien.” You enjoy Mark’s dismayed look. He deserves this, as terrible as Damien’s fate was it would have been much worse.

 

“Now in the best version of events all that would have meant is that Damien would have to witness what happened, but that’s not what would have happened.” Mark’s eyebrows draw together.

 

“The house Mark. The house.” Realisation dawns on his face and his expression rapidly changes to horror.

 

“Yes. It would have manipulated you into ruining his life too. Probably mine as well, not that it matters.” Mark doesn’t speak but that deep well of guilt swells, and it  _should_.

 

“So yes it’s personal, because if Damien hadn’t died in a fire and been stuck as a ghost for eternity he would have suffered a fate even worse.” You go back to checking off supplies and Mark doesn’t speak for the rest of the night.

 

He avoids Damien to the point that he asks you about it as you get ready for bed. You don’t answer, just gesture for him to join you. He stares at the space in the bed and doesn’t move.

 

“Come on, I might die tomorrow. Tonight I want to hold you.” He gets in and pulls you close.

 

“Please don’t… suggest that. I couldn’t bare to lose you so soon after meeting you.” The silent  _again_  is heard loud and clear.

 

You put your head to his chest and feel the warmth of him. He doesn’t have skin, he’s not even really here but it feels like he is. Only the smallest things give him away, like his lack of scent.

 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to die and I’ll do my absolute best not too. But it’s a risk, and we’d be fools to deny that.” You fall asleep safe in his arms.

 

In the morning everyone is quiet, no one speaks as you all sit down for breakfast or when you pack the car. You’re glad that you’ve gone over the plan already because it’s so awkward you’re not sure you’re going to get another chance. You listen to music for the first little while but eventually decide that making sure everyone is prepared is more important than continuing not to talk.

 

“Okay we’ve all been quiet far too long, we should go over the plan one more time.” Mark speaks after that and conversation picks up.

 

Once everyone has run over the plan you feel more confident. Like maybe you and Mark aren’t going to die. You try not to think about how you’ll be leaving Damien alone if you do. The hours tick on and by the time you reach the manor the sun is high in the sky. You park the car and get out.

 

All three of you stare up at the manor. It looks deceptively innocent. You turn away from it and grab the gear.

 

“Alright, let’s go.” You walk towards the gates.

 

You’re very lucky that no one lives here, and hasn’t for some time. There have been a few owners since that night but not many recently. With a bit of trial and error you manage to get the gates open. All three of you step inside the grounds and the gates close behind you.

 

“Maybe it’s just the wind.” You look over at Mark incredulously. You’re about to fight a demon possessing a house and he assumes that it’s just the wind?

 

“Let’s continue on.” You silently agree with Damien and start walking towards the house.

 

The place looks disturbingly clean, the front door doesn’t look like it’s been at all affected by the weather. The small feeling of discontent in your chest becomes full blown dread when you find the door unlocked. As you all step inside you notice how quiet it is. You hold your breath and hear nothing throughout the house. The unnatural silence makes you all at uneasy.

 

“Come on let’s go, everyone knows what they need to do.” You say and start heading for the east end of the house.

 

Mark heads north and Damien places the first sage and quarts just inside the door. He’ll head to the west side after that and you’ll all meet back here once you’ve placed the sage sticks. The cleansing is rather simple actually, but then stuff is rarely as dramatic as it looks in the movies.

 

You reach the the east most room and walk over to a marble bench. As you place the sage and the quarts you notice how clean the marble is. Not even dust has settled in this house since the 20s. You try not to linger on that terrifying thought and focus on the plan. The cleansing is just set up, you highly doubt it will be enough to get rid of whatever this is. But while you walk back to the main hall you place banishing symbols throughout the house and pour black salt on the floor.

 

Mark and Damien are already waiting in the hall, as you walk over you see that they are pouring a line of salt in the center of the room. As Mark pours the salt into a near perfect circle he stops just before completing it. Damien steps inside and Mark finishs the line.

 

“Alright in there?” You ask. He looks up and smiles reassuringly. You do not feel reassured.

 

“Everything ready to go?” Mark and Damien nod. You hoist your bag onto your back and step inside the salt. Hoping it will protect you from the demon you’re about to piss off. Mark joins you both inside the circle.

 

“Let’s do this.” You start to recite the spell, Mark and Damien join in. You take Damien’s hand and give it a squeeze.

 

You focus on your words and try to brace for all hell to break loose. It doesn’t, or not until you finish the spell, at least. As you speak the last word something in the air shifts. Darkness creeps in and the air starts to feel heavy. Your eyes are drawn to the mirror across the room like magnets, and you can’t pull them away. You want to go closer, there’s something in the reflection. You step forward but you are stopped. Irritated you look back to see Damien holds your arm tight.

 

“What are you doing? There’s something in the mirror, I have to go see.” He looks stricken.

 

“Y/N that’s the house talking,” Mark says, “You have to stay inside the circle!”

 

His words make you angry, and you narrow your eyes at him. You turn away, ignoring him. You don’t have to do as he says, not when you’re so curious about what’s in the mirror. You lift your leg to step out of the ring and Damien pulls you back so hard you crash into his chest. He quickly turns you around before you can gain your bearings and holds your gaze.

 

“We need to banish it, but all of us have to chant.” Something in you rebels and you try to pull away but Damien hold you still, never breaking eye contact.

 

“Just watch me Y/N, and speak with me.” You don’t want to, but you trust Damien. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, ever.

 

“Okay, with me.” He says slowly and you watch and follow as he starts to speak the spell. You’re too distracted to notice Mark watching you and following too.

 

You try to stay focused on Damien but you’re having trouble seeing him, it’s so dark in here. It wasn’t before, you’re sure. Something tells you that it’s not important and you forget about it. You can’t see Damien’s face anymore, and the urge to go to the mirror comes back tenfold. You take a step back and your shoe comes down on the line of salt, you slip and the line breaks. The voice you hadn’t realised was there disappears and all you can think is  _shit._

 

Just like the voice, the darkness dissipates. Lying on the ground you can now see Damien standing above you. You stare at him, trying to silently apologise. Your startled by the sound of the mirror shattering. You turn and see an unnatural aura around it. You immediately crawl away from it. The aura spreads and you grab Damien pulling him away.

 

“No, not again!” You turn to see Mark fall to the ground clutching his head between his hands. His skin is grey and a soft ringing is coming from everywhere and nowhere.

 

You look at Damien desperately and pick up the chant again. He grabs your hand and you focus on the spell, even as the ringing gets louder. It gets loud enough that you can’t hear yourself speak, but you don’t stop. Your head starts to pound from it. Wind blows through the house and you hold Damien tighter. You close your eyes and repeat the spell over and over, begging for it to end.

 

Everything stops. The ringing is gone so suddenly you wonder if it was ever there. And the wind quiets down to nothing. But something is wrong, the verse isn’t finished yet the demon can’t be gone. As soon as you open your eyes and look up you know what’s wrong. Mark is deathly still. But he doesn’t stay that way.

 

He gets up very slowly, as if his limbs are stiff. He smirks at you and you know it’s not him anymore. The  _thing_  turns to Damien and chuckles darkly.

 

“And what are you? A human soul trapped in this dimension after death, how interesting.” It pauses, and all the things it could possibly do to you are running through your head.

 

It tilts it’s head strangely, as if contemplating him.

 

“But I don’t need you getting in the way.”

 

The demon makes a gesture with it’s hand and Damien disappears. Your heart stops for a moment but he reappears in the center of the room. Inside the circle of salt.

 

You notice, heart plummeting, that it’s complete again. As if you never broke it at all.

 

Damien looks at you and tries to call out, probably telling you to run but no words leave his mouth. Dread spreads through you at that.

 

The thing turns to you and smiles like a predator with it’s prey, trapped in a corner.

 

 _You can’t lose_.

 

_There has to be a way out of this._

 

 _Oh_.

 

There is one. For Damien.

 

If you complete the banishing with him still inside the house without him participating, he’ll be banished too. And from what you know about this spell, it banishes things from this plane of existence. It will kill him. But you have the cane. If he’s outside the house when you say those words he’ll be fine. You just have to break the circle first.

 

You stand up and step towards the thing possessing Mark. It raises it’s eyebrows at your daring. You reach for the cane, readying yourself for what you’re about to do. Your hand closes around nothing and you delve your hand deeper searching for it. The demon laughs cruelly.

 

“Were you looking for this?” It holds up the head of the cane. Your heart sinks.

 

You look over at Damien hopelessly, his eyes are sad. He’s saying goodbye. You try to convey to him your sorry for what you’re about to do with a look. You turn back to the demon and it looks expectant.

 

“Are you finally realising how hopeless this was from the start? I’m going to win, admit defeat.”

 

You wish you’d brought a gun to shoot it with. But you didn’t, now there’s only one thing left to do.

 

You finish the last verse.

 

For a moment the demon lurchs toward you, trying to stop you but it’s too late. The last word falls from your mouth. The darkness explodes out of Mark and everything goes black.

 

-

 

You wake up to see Damien’s looking at you concerned. You swear he was…. His voice finally registers and you realise it’s Mark.

 

“Y/N thank god you’re okay! You wouldn’t wake up.” You don’t care, it doesn’t matter.

 

“Did it work? Is it gone?” He nods and you relax a little. You won.

 

“What about Damien?” Mark doesn’t answer but his expression tells you what you need to know.

 

You knew. You knew it would kill him, but you hoped…… you hoped he would somehow be okay. Trying to hold back tears you sit up and get to your feet.

 

“Let’s just get out of here.” Your voice doesn’t shake but it should, you feel fragile. Broken, like the mirror.

 

Mark leads you out of the house and back to the car, he tells you that he needs to complete the protection so that the entity can never return. He goes back to the house to do the spell alone, and you just sit and wait. After a few minutes you let yourself fall apart, Damien is  _gone_. And you cry because it  _hurts_.

 

The only one of you who can’t die, did. He didn’t even want to do this stupid plan! You never asked him, you just assumed. You should never have said anything. You should have kept your mouth shut when you saw that video of Mark. Damien didn’t deserve this. You don’t keep your tears quiet, you cry loudly. And Mark doesn’t say anything when he comes back to the car. He gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, leaving the manor behind.

 

He takes you back to his home and you sleep there for the night, too exhausted to argue or even have nightmares. In the morning you tell him that you want to go home. He drives you all the way back to your city and doesn’t ask you to talk. The long ride is full of loaded silences but you can’t be bothered to talk. When he walks you to your apartment he hands you something at the door.  _The_   _cane_.

 

He leaves and you’re left with the last piece of a man you barely had the chance to fall in love with. You put it on the dining table and don’t touch it.

 

You spend the first week doing nothing. What’s the point? But after a week of just watching things and lying in bed you go out to get some fresh food for the apartment and the walk clears your head. You can’t spend forever inside, doing nothing but hiding from the world.

 

You pick up your laptop and start writing, you’re quite behind on work but you catch up within two days. You barely stop typing to eat or sleep, writing not just for work but also for him. It starts out as a goodbye of sorts, but it becomes a story. A story about him, and about you, even about Mark. Writing it takes some of the weight off of you. It still hurts, but as time goes on you learn to deal with it.

 

A few weeks later you’re feeling like your life is going on and you’re moving on, it’s good and bad. Good because you’re alive and if you’re alive you have all the chances to experience amazing things. But… not with him. That’s why the ache in your chest still stings a little fresh and why you aren’t ready to see your friends yet.

 

You turn off your phone and take a quick break from writing. You get up and enter the kitchen, a cup of tea sounds good. You place your mug on the bench and turn to grab a tea bag, as you turn back you feel your elbow connect with the mug. You flinch, waiting for the inevitable smash as it collides with the floor. It doesn’t come. You turn around to find the mug safely caught mid fall. You stare at the person who caught it.

 

“Damien.” You breathe and launch yourself into his arms.

 

“Careful, I don’t wish to drop this mug.”

 

“Who care about the mug, you’re alive!” You pull him closer, holding him tightly to you. He’s here, this is real.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t appear sooner, I lost conciousness after the banishing and didn’t wake for days,” You pull back to listen, “When I did I was so drained that I couldn’t even move a piece of paper, much less tell you that I was still here.”

 

“It’s fine, I don’t care. You’re here, that’s more than I could ever hope for.” You kiss him, because if there’s anything you’ve learned it’s that you should take every chance you have.

 

Tea and laptop forgotten, you and Damien sit on the couch for the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company. Revelling in the fact that you are both here and together.

 

The End.


End file.
